She was sitting in the lounge chair under the umbrella. Not necessarily hiding from the sun, but not seeking to be burnt to a crisp, she enjoyed, nonetheless, the brilliant sparkle on the surface of his pool.
It was pretty freaking awesome to have your own in-ground pool outside your back door, even if it was hot enough to fry an egg on the concrete around it. She was glad he’d suggested being here today, for a day to chill and relax and try to cool down. He knew how much the heat bothered her, and for all that he was a wicked bastard in the bedroom, he was careful with her.
He took care of his things, he’d told her, and she was now one of his things.
She wasn’t sure why that had made her all melty. Maybe that submissive need to belong, maybe just the matter-of-fact way he’d said it, the casual “this is the way things are now” that let her know that she was his. Her fingers toyed with the collar he’d given her. It was rose-gold, a thin band ringing her neck. Not tight enough to choke, not loose enough to forget, and unable to remove unless he did so.
She wore a two piece suit though she wasn’t comfortable the way her flabby belly pushed out the long top. He’d wanted her to wear a bikini, but she threw her safeword at him. He’d laughed, told her he’d seen her asshole, for goodness sake, why would he be upset by her belly which he’d had his hands, mouth, and toys upon numerous times? She’d blushed, and regrettably, whined a little bit. In the end he did compromise with the tankini top and minuscule bottom.
He came out via the sliding door, drinks in hand.
She slapped her hand over her mouth.
“What?” he said, watching her eyes dance, and her fingers clamped over her lips. She shook her head no.
“What?” he asked again.
Her other hand gestured vaguely at him. He was sure he heard giggles from behind her hand. Setting the drinks down, he leaned over her and tugged her hand away. Her lips curved, her mouth parted.
His brows beetled together. She laughed harder. Tears began to slip down her cheeks, and she held her belly as the raucous humor poured from her.
“Those….no. No Sir. No. You can’t. No…”
And she fell back into hysterical laughter.
“I beg your pardon?” He said, his voice a mix of perplexed and affronted.
“Oh..oh..” and she fell sideways in the lounger. Her knees drew up as she lay there, helplessly laughing. Her butt was wiggling around as she gasped out wild chortles. He leaned over her again and slapped it hard. Her eyes widened, a look of shock crossed her face. But when she looked at him, giggles exploded once again.
His hand smacked her round bottom again. And again. And again for good measure, the third time being the most forceful. Her laughter ceased, but her smile remained.
“Ouch. And yum,” she said, rubbing her butt cheek.
“Do take a moment to explain…..this…this…hilarity.” He waved his hand at her as she continued to lay curled in the chair. One foot stretched out, a slash of sunlight attempting to fry her toes. She hiccuped.
“Oops!” she said, grinning. “Sometimes that happens when I laugh too much.”
“Indeed,” he replied drolly.
“It’s those…those…what are those?”
“It’s my swimsuit. What. What?” He frowned at her as she stuffed her fist into her mouth. Small tee-hee’s and snickers leaked around her fingers.
“You..they…SIR! You’ve got pink flamingo’s on your pants!” Another burst of laughter threatened to explode. “FLAMINGO’s Sir.”
“Yes. They are flamingo’s. So?”
“You…you’re such a bastard! You hit me. You hurt me. And you know I love it. But you have this reputation for being such a badass, such a Dom Bastard Badass, that people are actually afraid of you. *I* was afraid of you before, too. And here you are…”
This time she could not stop the laugh. Her hand waved towards the offending swim trunks, their acid-pink flamingos practically glowing.
“And here I am.” He smiled. “I like pink flamingo’s. They remind me of the color of a woman’s pussy after it’s been slapped for a while. A long while.”
He wagged his eyebrows at her in a way that made her laugh all the harder. And also made her pussy grow damp, made her body yearn.
“Now, slut, if you’re done making fun of my choice of swimwear, get your ass over here and suck my cock.”
She smiled, and complied.
Just a little short (and sweet!) tale to let you all know I’m still alive! I woke up with this story in my head this morning, and I had to ‘catch’ it before it got away…! ~nilla~